


you are not alone (i've been here the whole time)

by pepi_peachnbeans



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sam Winchester's Wall, The Cage, Tortured!Sam, and also jo and ellen, dean and bobby are just referenced though, michael and lucifer are horrible, season 7, so is Cas - Freeform, the wall broke, trauma from the cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepi_peachnbeans/pseuds/pepi_peachnbeans
Summary: but in the very sickest ways, sam would always prefer michael over lucifer. It had become a relief to him, in the time spent in the cage, when it would be michael facing him. When it was michael who was holding him, leering at him, spitting. it was easy, it was something sam's dealt with his entire life. punches, insults, kicks, it's that ground pain that sam could deal with.
Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 58





	you are not alone (i've been here the whole time)

**Author's Note:**

> anyways this is my first work for spn. i'm rewatching the series to prepare for the final, and well ,,, i've been hit with feelings. i've always personally thought that in the cage there is absolutely no way that michael didn't have a hand in torturing him. we obviously see characters mention michael did too or would, and we all see how lucifer does, so i thought kind of exploring michael's part would be fun. 
> 
> but especially i wanted to explore lucifers, because i think what makes lucifer such a cruel villain is just how much of a mindfuck he would do to go out of his way to go after sam. i mean, just 'meeting' sam for the first time, he pretended to be jess, he's always manipulated sam, from pretending to be god. also i'm an avid believe in the part of the fandom who believes lucifer raped him in the cage due to all the contextual evidence for it so i wanted to explore it a bit. 
> 
> it's dark but what can i say! writing sad stuff is like kinda my thing 
> 
> title: carry you - ruelle and fleurie

In the beginning, Michael had been the worst. 

When this plan was first brought up, there had been plenty of concern about what it would be like if Sam was left locked away in the cage with the two of them. Castiel had always been the main person out of everyone who would give Sam side eye always when he thought that Sam wasn't paying attention, but he is. In the end, he would always purse his lips and leave the topic alone. The words were always there, Castiel seemingly wanting to remind him of just who both Michael and Lucifer are, that they are angels, archangels, of the lord, their power, and there's a reason the bible always says to fear not, and yet Sam would shake his head because he knew this, he knew. He knew what they were, what they could do. 

And all Sam could see was everything that happened because of this. The way Azazel had shown him the way his mother died, his fathers death. Sam remembers Jo dying there and Ellen trying to put on a brave face. He reminds himself of all the other people that would die if Michael and Lucifer ever got around to starting their little apocalypse, and so Sam's decision was made. It had been wishful thinking on his part though to hope that they'd be too pissed off at each other to even pay any attention to Sam. 

Oh how he wished he was right. 

The truth is, when Sam took control and grabbed Michael and flung them all through the opening to the cage, he hadn't even been thinking of what would happen to him when it was just them. All he focused on was to stop hurting Dean and to just end this, and so he did. 

"You ruined everything!" Michael had screamed at him, fists flying in a frenzy to connect with any part of Sam's body it could. His jaw, his shoulder, his stomach. "All because you two just wouldn't accept your fates and say yes." 

But in the very sickest ways, Sam would always prefer Michael over Lucifer. It had become a relief to him, in the time spent in the cage, when it would be Michael facing him. When it was Michael who was holding him, leering at him, spitting. It was easy, it was something Sam's dealt with his entire life. Punches, insults, kicks, it's that ground pain that Sam could deal with. 

What Sam couldn't handle, what would make him cry, is the way Lucifer would torture him. It wasn't always just physical, it wasn't just magic, grace, mojo, or whatever they wanted to call it. It wasn't just the way that Lucifer would use anything and everything against Sam because _I've been in your head Sammy, I know you, I know all of you_. He would use his own fears, his memories, both the good and the bad. But he made the good ones bad and the bad ones worse. 

Whenever Michael would be finished with him, he'd leave Sam there in a heap. Dropping him down and recoiling from Sam as if he was disgusting, as if Sam had been the one tainted. And he would be gone again, because the two archangels were buzzing with energy and power to do virtually everything but actually get out of the cage, and Sam found out the hard way Lucifer had a knack for manipulating reality, and Michael did too, he just used it to get away. 

Sam wouldn't cry, not then at least. Not during or after. In fact, he would be laying there just hoping, and wishing, that he could pass out. That he'd be able to fall asleep, to just not be conscious anymore, but the real laws of how a body should work doesn't, not here. There is no death, there is no sleep, there's is just pain, resurrection, and pain once more. There is no sleeping in Hell, no break that Sam could get. And in a way, he remembers the way Dean would talk about Hell, it was barely often, but Sam knew enough. How time worked differently, how they tortured Dean on the racks until he got off and began to torture others, and a part of Sam wishes he had that kind of mercy. Because maybe he's always been weak, a monster, and Sam could almost wish he could just take the knife around and drive it through someone else's chest to save for the way the chains would hold him back as millions of needles would tear through his flesh. Anything to save him from the way the cold hands would push their way through his stomach. But there was no escape. 

No, what would make Sam start to cry would be when Lucifer came to collect him after Michael was done. His body wouldn't be naturally healed yet by the otherworldly power, and Michael often didn't care enough to heal him once he was done, something that Lucifer does over and over again when he's taking a crack at Sam because _see I just don't think this piece of work is turning out good, I hate it actually. Let's start over and get the streaks of blood right this time, what do you say Sam?_ And how he would blissfully sigh and say, _this is my favorite you Sam. What can I say? You just look so damn good tied up, bleeding, and crying. Makes me feel all tingly over_. And Sam could only scream and yell as Lucifer forced the sounds to leave his mouth.

Sam would be in his heap and he'd see Lucifer approach, and he always does his best to struggle, to try and get away. To just put some kind of room and space between the two of them, but sometimes Sam couldn't move, and either way Lucifer always got to him in the end. So Lucifer would, and he'd sit down on the ground next to Sam, sometimes healing some of his worst wounds, other times he too would just leave Sam in pain. He'd pick Sam up, sometimes placing Sam's head in his lap, and other times he would pull Sam onto his lap entirely, arms wrapping around him. 

In those times Sam would want to struggle, to pull away, but he couldn't. The touch would always be the same, it would be cold, but it wouldn't hurt like any other time and Sam hated the way he would relax as Lucifer's hands pet his hair, fingers getting tangled in his brown locks brushing through it compared to the times where his hand would bury and tug, tug, and keep tugging until Sam is sure that his neck will break from the pressure. Lucifer would talk to him then, sometimes he would tell Sam what he was going to do to him. How he would be blur the lines of reality until Sam was begging for death. Other times he would just talk about how much he hated Sam, how much Sam betrayed him. On the better days though, Lucifer would just talk about something else entirely. Biblical stories and the rest of it, which would make Sam relax because Michael would always end up butting in and the two of them would argue about something Sam doesn't care about because he would just get to relax, if only for a little bit. 

But the touches shouldn't have relaxed Sam like they did. He should have fought back when Lucifer's lips would press against his forehead and call him _Sammy_ so tenderly and _you understand why I do this, don't you_? 

Sam would always end back up in the exact same place though, hooks through his skin as he's suspended Lucifer in front of him. Cooing as he would pet Sam's hair, "I know, I know. You just want to be normal, you didn't want to be a freak. All you ever wanted was to be loved. You just wanted someone to love you because your brother's the only person who ever cared for you, you just wanted someone to accept you, demon blood and all, because even your own daddy wanted to shoot you for it." 

"Jess loved me." 

"You're not wrong there." Lucifer agreed, the hand that was buried deep in Sam's chest would twist causing him to shout out in pain, and Lucifer kept talking after Sam was done whimpering. "And you thought Ruby loved you too, and really, I'm a bit sad I never got to applaud Lilith for that one. I mean come on Sam! Seriously! They made you believe that you had someone and then- BOOM!" the hand in his chest tears out and Sam slumps as he watches Lucifer hold the beating organ, his heart. "She was just using you." 

"I'm over it," Sam pants as he shakes his head and reminds himself to just try and breathe. 

"You aren't over it until I say you can be." 

Lucifer's favorite thing was playing with Sam's feelings. It's why he would, after Sam's hanging there from the chains crying because no matter what, he still can't help but cry, Lucifer would ask him if he's done. At first, Sam wouldn't know what he meant, but he did, he began to learn, and deep in his gut Sam could feel a twist, but he would ignore it, ignore it and say, "Please." 

"Oh well, since you asked so nicely," Lucifer would come up close to him, the same cold hand lingering at Sam's hips and the next item on his itinerary would begin. 

All until a day he doesn't move from where he's standing so close to Sam. The hands are still on his hips lingering, and it would unnerve him, he'd want to thrash at the touch, but his arms have been bound for who knows how long now, and it hurts. "Well Sammy, what are you in the mood for today, hm? Top? Bottom? What is little Sammy craving?" 

He flinched as he struggled to talk. Lucifer was giving him a choice, a choice that should make Sam feel some sort of power. They never really give him a choice in anything, in the end they always toss him around like a little rag doll. But he breathes, "On my back." 

With a snap of fingers, the chains are gone and Sam would be on the ground, laying on his back, Lucifer right there who would smile, "I knew there was a reason I liked you Sam," he winked. "I want see your face when you beg." 

Sam always did end up begging. 

He can remember a time where he actually liked to talk about things, when he could talk about them. Dean had always hated it, called him girly, said he wasn't interested in chick flicks, but Sam had always persisted. Now, it's like the basic foundations of his person is different and so he lies to Dean, insists that he's fine. Even when standing behind Dean he can see Lucifer there. 

Before, Sam never got much sleep to begin with. It was just the life of a hunter, where they were always on the road or hunting, a full seven hours was a blessing, but it was usually about five at best. When he got to Standford, Sam actually began to get more sleep, at least for a little while there. Sometimes homework assignments kept him awake to late hours of the night pushing through the early morning. 

Now, Sam can't even find it in him to fall asleep, because we he closes his eyes all he sees is black with flashes of blue, and it incites a fear that resonates so deep inside of him that his throat grows dry and his eyes snap open. Those nights he would busy himself with something. 

Sometimes, like tonight, Sam actually would fall asleep. He doesn't know how long that he's actually asleep for before he's jolting awake upon feeling a weight on top of him. At first, it's light, almost like a blanket, and Sam doesn't want to get up, wants to cling to the first real sleep in who knows how long, but the weight grows heavier and he's trying to sit up as he reaches for the gun he keeps underneath his pillowcase. 

"Woah, woah!" Lucifer is there straddling his waist as he raises his hands in surrender. "It's just me Sammy. What you don't want to cuddle tonight? And just when I was going to let you be the big spoon." 

Sam cocks the gun, finger itching against the trigger as he points the barrel in between Lucifer's eyes. He's not fully laying down right now, but he isn't sitting up either, instead relying on his core strength to hold him up so that his back isn't flat. Lucifer's strength still pins him down from moving any further. "Fuck you," he hisses as he's about to shoot. 

The gun leaves his hands then, and he watches almost helplessly as it clatters against the ground, sliding feet away. Hands now empty, Sam sinks back down the reality of this situation beginning to hit him because just maybe that gun had been his only hope and there's no way that he's getting to it now. Not with Lucifer on top of him, not with it so far away. _  
_

"What Sam?" Lucifer asks as he watches Sam carefully. "Not gonna try to hit me or choke me?" _  
_

"No," Sam agrees softly as he tries to ground his breathing, anything to get his heart beat to decrease. The last time that it got this bad, Lucifer made him tear his own heart out, and Sam doesn't want a repeat. _  
_

"Well, I'm flattered Sammy, really." Lucifer's hands are cold as they run along his arms until they reach his wrists and he's pining Sam's arms above his head leaving him more exposed, more defenseless. "You like seeming my face this much, I'm starting to think you may actually like me." One of his hands holds both of Sam's wrists down as he runs a finger down his wrist and across his vein. Pushing more of his weight down, he leans in on Sam, the scruff of his face brushing against Sam's own jaw until his mouth is right up against his ear. Sam swallows as he can feel the breathe against his ear, the ghost of the lips as he whispers, "What's your favorite?" _  
_

It's then that Sam begins to finally struggle. He tries to buck his hips up once to off throws Lucifer's balance, but it does nothing and so Sam closes his eyes and tries to ground himself. Because he's here and not there. None of this is rea- before he can finish the thought, Sam feels the flat side of a palm strike across his face and his eyes open to meet Lucifer's who is still there, and very much real. "Now, this isn't the Sam that I know and love. What happened to you being so verbally defiant? I love it when you fight back, it makes me feel so special. What? No insults?" _  
_

"Shut up," Sam cups his left hand around the right and presses down as hard as he can hoping that Lucifer will just go away, but no matter how hard Sam presses, he doesn't go. _  
_

"That's the best you got? Awe Sammy, we'll have to work harder than that." _  
_

At the touch, Sam does begin to thrash. He reminds himself of a wild animal being hunted. Desperate to do anything to save himself, and there's no precision to his movements, it's all frantic. He tries to kick his legs out, buck his hips, break the grip on his wrists. He does after awhile, and the hand immediately tangles itself in his hair and tugs Sam up so that his face is level with Lucifer's, and his hands come out trying to create a distance between the two of them. "Let me go." _  
_

Lucifer does, the hand that was holding his hair leaves and Sam falls back, he wasn't expecting Lucifer to, and it was the only thing really holding him up. Lucifer touches him again and Sam's struggle clearly gets on his nerve because the pressure increases. "Where are you trying to go Sam? You still haven't even answered my question, that's rude, don't you think?" _  
_

And so before Sam can scream from agony, he throws his head back and yells what he knows Lucifer wants to hear him say, "My back! I like to be on my back!" And he can remember the time his stomach was cut and he was laying face down on the cold ground, and with eyes closed Sam keeps yelling, "I want to be on my back!" Because everything hurts and it hurts less like this and Sam just wants the pain to go away. _  
_

Just like that, the weight goes away and Sam doesn't lay there and wait for it to return, he rolls out of bed easily and all but throws himself to the gun and then to the wall so his back is flat against it. It's raised, and he glances around the room for Lucifer, but he isn't there and the tension slowly begins to leave his shoulders. He's fine, he's alive, on Earth. He's just at Bobby's house, it's just them here. Dean and Bobby are off in their own rooms sleeping, and it's just Sam in here, alone. _  
_

"No. You've never been alone Sam." He whips around quick, and by the time he turns the gun in his hand is gone and his arms are raised out in front of him. There's only darkness, the only source of light being the crackling of lightning followed by a roll of thunder which makes Sam flinch. The blue light hits blonde hair and a smug grin, "I've been here the whole time." _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> let me know how it was, i think through this rebinge i might start writing a bit more content but idk. i tried to write the characters as accurate as i could


End file.
